


The Teddy (not Kukalaka)

by Xenobotanist



Series: Garashir by Night [6]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Lingerie, M/M, Oneshot, Pre-Slash, Round Robin, Tailoring, let Garak feel pretty, quickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26019388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenobotanist/pseuds/Xenobotanist
Summary: After missing lunch, Julian surprises Garak. And gets surprised.Who would have thought fabric could make such a potent catalyst?---The first installment in a multiple-part series by various authors.NOW ILLUSTRATED
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Series: Garashir by Night [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848898
Comments: 9
Kudos: 81
Collections: Lingerie: A Garashir Round-Robin





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I needed fluff, so I wrote some. This idea has been floating around in my head for some time now.  
> I’ve found several stories that put Julian in lingerie, but seeing as Garak is a tailor, I’ve always thought he’d have an interest in MANY forms of clothing and dabbled in most of them.

Julian was well-aware that lunch time had come and gone, but an emergency liver replacement can’t be postponed, so he’d missed his weekly literary discussion with Garak. He wandered over to the tailor’s shop anyway, hoping to at least take a break in the tailor’s company. 

The display floor was empty. 

Garak was probably in the storage room or work room, maybe focused on a commission or taking inventory, so he strode toward the back. The door was shut, which wasn’t common. Which meant whatever he was doing, he didn’t want a customer to catch him unawares. _This_ customer, however, knew the entry code, since the tailor had entrusted him with the information in the event of a crisis. Julian let an impish smile cross his lips. Wouldn’t it be something if he caught Garak conducting a _different_ type of business? What if the ex-spy had given him the code for the express purpose of encouraging his somewhat-apprentice to take the next step in their lessons? Intrigued, he tapped in the complex string of characters and commands, eyes already searching beyond before the door had completely opened.

Garak turned suddenly toward him, startled, and he certainly wasn’t counting stock, sewing, or spying. It appeared as if he’d been standing in front of a mirror, admiring himself.

As well he should.

“It--You--” Julian searched frantically for the perfect phrase. “Garak, you’re _exquisite.”_

The human was pretty sure that he’d never forget the sight that greeted him. The outfit that Garak was wearing… well. It wasn’t exactly an outfit, per se. Julian had seen each of the items on others numerous times before, even if he couldn’t name every piece. The word _lingerie_ came to mind. Black lace and mesh, with purple glints in certain angles of light.

There were stockings, and above those, garters. The upper portion… not a bodice, although there seemed to be a corset sewn in. Not a bodysuit. 

A teddy.

Garak was wearing a black teddy.

It was obvious now that Garak’s well-known shapeless form was completely produced by the many layers and thermal undergarments that he donned every day. The man in front of him at this very moment, though…

Julian’s frame tended toward lanky, he knew. Maybe willowy a decade ago, and once he’d been called svelte in his Academy days. But Garak’s body had a whole different character. It wasn’t exactly what one would call voluptuous, but neither was it slender or trim. Somewhat athletic, he clearly participated in some sort of exercise regimen that gifted him with firm arms and legs, and a tight abdomen. Toned, maybe. Although luscious also came to mind.

And the exposed skin… the human doctor wouldn’t _precisely_ classify himself as a xenophile (despite his track record containing a rather high percentage of non-human encounters), but he couldn’t help but notice the scales. Large, thick ones trailing from the neck ridges and down the gray arms. Intricate, smooth ones descending down the hips. Flashes of something like the ornamentation on his head, only partially hidden by the gossamer material over his chest and middle. He’d never wanted to feel something beneath his fingertips so much in his life.

All of this ran through Julian’s head in the space of a few moments. He quickly became aware that he was staring and ought to say something else. 

The face above the exposed body wore a haughty expression, as if daring him to apologize for his intrusion. But the posture spoke otherwise. While Julian would be the first to admit he was slow to pick up social cues, he’d spent enough time with Garak to recognize his gestures and body language. 

The spy-turned-tailor looked defensive.

The notion to bow out and leave never entered Julian’s mind. He took a few more paces into the room, letting the door whisk shut behind him. Despite the implacable look on his face, Garak inched backward.

How could Julian never have realized how beautiful his friend could look? Charming, yes. Expressive, most definitely. He _has_ seen all of this in its entirety once, but that had been in a doctor/patient capacity, and his primary focus had been on the chemicals wreaking havoc on the Cardassian’s brain. He’d barely spared the details a glance as the tunic and trousers were swapped out for that hideous purple hospital gown.

Taking in the stiffness of the shoulders and slight clench of jaw, Julian wondered: was Garak not even aware of his own bewitching image?

Apparently, the answer was yes.

“Ambassador Troi placed a rather large order with me on her last visit,” Garak stated guardedly. “I’ve completed the gowns and suits, but I haven’t much experience with the more _delicate_ clothing items. Before I began her orders, I thought it would be prudent to experience such a garment myself to understand the flow and function of the various components.” It was a very plausible and reasonable explanation. It might even be true.

“Well, you’re doing a bloody brilliant job of it,” Julian assured him. Of their own accord, his eyes travelled down Garak’s body and back up again. “I’d say you have the materials and arrangement spot-on. It’s very tasteful and attractive.” He bit his lip. “Especially on you, Garak.” Suddenly aware of what he’d just let slip, he started to backtrack. “I mean, I think Lwaxana will be quite pleased.”

The tailor gave him a cautious half-bow of thanks. It made the purple highlights shine and shift over the fabric. “Thank you for your input, Doctor. Regardless of your impaired fashion sense, I’m inclined to agree. An ensemble such as this requires a great amount of detail and attention.” He regarded himself. “And this particular one is actually rather comfortable.”

“So, is that one for you? Are you keeping it then?” Julian asked a little too quickly.

Garak gave him a curious look. “I may. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I--I,” Julian stammered. “It’s just that I would hate to see something so nice go to waste,” he finished lamely.

“We’re on a space station, my dear. Nothing goes to waste. But still.” Garak ran a few fingers down his waist. “Yes, I think I will hold on to this. If you think I should.”

“Garak, would you like to have dinner tonight?” That had just slipped right out of Julian’s mouth, but now that it was said, there was no way he was taking it back.

The tailor looked up at him, surprise evident on his face. “Pardon?”

Julian felt a little thrill that he’d been able to throw the unflappable ex-spy off his stride. “I was wondering if you’d like to come over for dinner tonight. My treat, since I missed lunch.” He tried to use a winning smile.

Garak assessed him closely, considering. While he did, Julian took another moment to admire the coiled tension of the body in front of him. Delicate and sensual the outfit may be, but the figure inside was just as spirited and deadly as ever. That combination alone caused a fairly heady sensation. But in conjunction with the keen mind and sharp intellect of the mind that controlled the body, it formed the image of someone Julian found irresistible. 

“Alright, Doctor. After I close up for the evening, I can meet you for dinner. Shall we say 1900?”

Did Garak understand the proposition being made? Just in case he’d missed it… “Please. We’ve known each other long enough. Call me Julian.” He took a final step into Garak’s space, touching his arm just below the shoulder. “I’ll see you in my quarters at 1900.” He paused, gathering his courage. “If it isn’t too much trouble, bring _this_ , too.” He let just one finger trace a lacy edge that parted around a ridge.

Garak’s eyes followed the movement, then raised back up to meet Julian’s. A faint blue colored his cheeks as his insecure stance began to morph into something decidedly more provocative. One side of his mouth turned up, giving him the expression of the cat who cornered the canary, and Julian was absolutely ready to start singing.

Maybe he would.

Tonight.


	2. The Teddy (the illustration)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The neckline and lacy sides idea are courtesy of plain_and_simple_tailor (ectogeo).  
> And yes, I just realized I forgot the stockings.

**Author's Note:**

> For part 2, see "What Happens Next," by sapphose.  
> [What Happens Next](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26259625)


End file.
